The Long Journey Home
by jealousy jane
Summary: What happens when you sacrifice the good of one for the good of the pack? Derek decides the sacrifice is necessary but Stiles is out for blood with or without the pack. Underestimated one too many times Stiles decides it's best to take matters in his own hands now that he has nothing to lose and is determined to succeed.
1. Chapter 1

Stiles would never be sure why his father was the one to answer the call. Some poor bastard was attacked by an animal after having had the misfortune of having their car breakdown at the edge of the woods in the middle of the night. Maybe he had been closest to the scene at the time, or as Stiles liked to think he was just that damn lucky. The Sheriff wasn't even supposed to be on duty that night. It was a full moon and ever since werewolves had been proven to be rather vicious on their best days but particularly so on that one night every month Stiles had made sure his father was home until way after the sun had risen in the sky signaling a new day.

A ringing startled Stiles out of sleep, and without bothering to check the caller ID he answered with a groggy, "Hullo." The last person he expected to hear was the hesitant voice of Mrs. McCall. "Stiles, you need to come down to the hospital honey." Bolting upright in his bed panic overwhelmed the want to sleep. "Why? What happened? Is it Scott?" Stiles scrambled to pull on both a pair of pants and a shirt which may or may not have been clean waiting for some sort of explanation for his three o'clock wake up call.

"No, no it's not Scott. Stiles it's your dad, he was attacked. The doctors are doing their best, but he's in really bad shape." His phone fell to the floor with a thunk as Stiles ran out of his room skidding to a halt at the sight of his father's empty room. "No, no, no." His dad had been asleep before Stiles had gone to bed. He had been safe. All but falling down the stairs in his hurry Stiles snatched his keys from the table before shoving his feet into a pair of sneakers leaving the front door wide open as his jeep pulled out of the driveway.

Stiles couldn't remember how he had gotten to the hospital, or where he had left his jeep though he knew he didn't have the keys with him as he burst through the emergency room doors. Without bothering to slow his pace Stiles rushed past Scott's mom just barely able to understand the room number she yelled to him over the pounding of his own heart. Stiles briefly thought to give thanks to Coach Finstock for making him run all those suicides as he ran full tilt up stairs and through hallways stopping short at the sight waiting for him just outside the room his father was in.

Derek and Chris Argent stood toe to toe each with a snarl on their face, confirming what Stiles had already suspected. This was no animal attack, it was werewolves. After a moment both men turned towards the panic stricken boy, and while Derek's expression remained as unreadable as ever Chris Argent's expression fell causing Stiles heart to lurch with dread.

It wasn't until he tried to rush past them into the room that Stiles noticed the two men weren't alone, the pack including Scott stood behind Derek while a handful of armed hunters including Allison stood behind Mr. Argent. Strong arms wrapped around him stopping him from reaching the door. Fighting against the hold as best as he could Stiles could feel fresh tears running down his face at the realization that crashed down on him. Nobody wanted him to see his dad because he wasn't just injured, he was dead.

A soft voice was calling his name and he could feel a pair of hands cradling his face. Opening his eyes that he hadn't remembered closing Stiles came face to face with Lydia whose lips were moving but his brain refused to believe what she was telling him. "It was an Alpha Stiles. Another pack has been sniffing around, but we thought they were just passing through. We tried to keep a close eye on them, we really did. As soon as Derek found your dad he brought him straight here, but there was too much damage." Shaking his head Stiles didn't want to hear any more but with sad eyes Lydia continued regardless. "His body couldn't take it and his heart gave out. The doctors said he kept asking them to tell you how sorry he was he didn't stay home tonight like he promised."

Stiles let out a choked sob and stopped fighting the hold of who he now knew to be Jackson. Once it seemed as though Stiles wasn't going to go for the room again Jackson let go before stepping away slowly. Pulling his face roughly from her grasp Stiles went to move past her when Lydia's hand darted out to grab his wrist. As he turned to her snarling surprise could be seen in her eyes. "Don't fucking touch me!"

Everybody was shocked, they had all assumed Lydia the girl he swore to have been in love with since third grade would have been able to get through to him. Nobody expected him to lash out at her. Cry in her arms, yes. But not telling her to back off with a look that said the next person to try to stop him would regret it werewolf or not. Surprisingly it was Allison's dad who backed him up with a pistol no doubt filled with wolfsbane bullets at his side. "The boy has a right to see his father one last time, to be able to say goodbye. I won't let you take that away from him so I suggest you all just let him through." Stiles looked up at the older man and gave a nod of appreciation before opening the door to the room, this time unhindered for which he was thankful.

Closing the door quietly behind him Stiles flinched at the thought that there was no reason to be quiet, his dad wouldn't be waking up ever again. The white sheet was splotched red where blood had been able to soak through and while Stiles moved closer prepared to remove the barrier between him and what was left of his father he knew he didn't want to see the broken body of the only family he had left. No, he didn't want to but he needed to. He would face the consequences of his actions. All of his lies had led to this. He thought he was protecting his dad, keeping him safe by keeping the secrets that weren't his to share.

Trembling hands pulled back the sheet unaware and uncaring as to the events taking place just outside the door. Chris Argent knew that none of the wolves standing before him were directly responsible for their friend's loss, but he refused to ignore the carelessness in the situation. "You should have come to me as soon as you discovered not just other wolves but an Alpha trespassing on your territory." Derek's eyes flashed to red as he released a rumbling growl at the older man who seemed so unfazed by the action though the other hunters trained their weapons without hesitation causing growls of warning to erupt from the betas.

Derek ignored the guilt tangling up with all his anger and self loathing, "If I had known his pack was larger than the four wolves with him I would have, but it had seemed unnecessary to involve hunters." Sneering with obvious hatred Mr. Argent's response struck a chord with everyone. "And your decision cost not just one but two human lives tonight, their blood is on your hands." Whimpers of distress rang through the pack in response. A member of their pack was hurting and if he was honest with himself Derek had no idea how to provide comfort, not when as an Alpha he had failed to keep them all safe.

Having delivered their message loud and clear the hunters left. Derek knew what was to come next, and he also knew he would have to deny the boy his pleas for revenge for the good of the pack. It surprised him how steady both Stiles breathing and heart rate were, especially when he had been on the verge of a panic attack when he had first arrived. Ignoring curious looks from his pack Derek entered the room of the once great Sheriff Stilinski.

Blood was smeared across his face and hands as Stiles knelt by his fathers side praying for forgiveness. "Forgive me, Please forgive me for failing you as a son. I really did want you to be proud of me, but I know you wouldn't approve of what I'm going to do. Whoever did this to you will pay, and it will bring me peace knowing not another person will suffer at their hands. But they will suffer at mine." His words were spoken so softly had Derek not already been in the room listening he wouldn't have heard it. Kissing his fathers hand a final time Stiles rose to his full height before walking right past the Alpha and out the door ignoring those who were calling after him.

Erica was the first to stop her Alpha managing to look both angry and lost. "What does he need us to do Alpha? He smells of sorrow and need, so tell us what it is and we will do it. We will give our pack what it needs." Derek looked down at the girl expression softening, he understood the want to fix the hurt of one of your pack. If the death had been natural causes then the pack would have come together to comfort the one in need refusing to let them be alone in their grief. When one is lost in a way such as this, the Alpha and the pack member who suffered the loss would challenge not only the Wolf who had committed the crime but also their Alpha.

"We cannot give him what he wants Erica. We cannot give him revenge." If Stiles had been a wolf or if the offending pack had been smaller he would have gladly walked into battle with him. Instead he had to think of the needs of the pack as a whole. So he sacrificed the need of one with the notion he would be able to better protect his pack.


	2. Chapter 2

Stiles had gotten home somehow though he wasn't quite sure how he had managed to find his jeep let alone drive it, and yet there he was standing in the only home he had ever known. The home that held the memory of not only one but two lost parents now. He could feel the grittiness of the blood long since dried on his fingers, but he didn't bother washing it away. Instead with bleary eyes he went straight to his room pulling the bag of Mountain Ash that Deaton had given him from his closet. There was no doubt in his mind that Derek and his pack would show up sooner or later in some misguided attempt to comfort him. Stiles didn't want their fucking comfort, he didn't need it. What he needed was to get ready.

At seventeen he technically wasn't a legal adult, but ever prepared he had copies of any and all paperwork needed along with phone numbers to attorneys who specialized in cases where there are no living relatives but the child is allowed legal emancipation. As much as he had hoped to never lose his father Stiles knew the dangers that came with being Sheriff even in a town like Beacon Hills, so he made sure that his dad's life insurance policy was substantial. It didn't take long to line the doors and windows and part of him didn't want to shut them out but a larger part was raging that they had kept secrets from him. They hadn't trusted him enough and now he had no one, he was no one.

There was a newly opened bottle of Jack in the kitchen, and any other day Stiles would have been equal parts disappointed and frustrated that his father was drinking so much. Not today though, today Stiles gave thanks that he had something to take the edge off if even for a little while. Taking a gulp straight out the bottle Stiles barely felt the burn, distracted by the knocking he could hear coming from upstairs. No doubt it was Scott at his bedroom window, and while that should have made him glad that his friend cared enough to check on him all he felt was anger.

Slamming the bottle down onto the kitchen table Stiles threw open the door to the hallway closet punching in the code to the gun safe without hesitation hauling out the double barrel shotgun and box of shells full of wolfsbane that he had made himself. He knew Scott wasn't alone out there, he wasn't sure how he knew but he could feel it. What most of them didn't know was Stiles was an ace with a gun, especially a shotgun. Skeet shooting had been one of his favorite father son activities, and he was good at it. He hadn't cared for hunting. Killing anything really wasn't something he had ever enjoyed. In that moment though, with his shotgun in hand, with the knowledge that none of them except Scott would think he was capable of actually hitting his target let alone the aconite he had stuffed into the shells Stiles knew he could easily kill Derek. One well placed shot to the chest and there would be one less Alpha in the world.

Every wolf could feel it as they hovered outside the house, unsure if they were welcome but unable and unwilling to leave their pack mate alone in the roiling cloud of sadness so strong they had first felt it when turning onto the street. Yet the house was silent. There were no choking sobs or movement of any kind. All there was, was a steady heartbeat as proof that Stiles was inside. As Scott went around the house to the bedroom window the rest of the wolves waited listening carefully from the front yard. Derek felt uneasy, something was wrong he just didn't know what and it was making his hackles rise. Jackson's quiet voice broke Derek from his thoughts, "It's too quiet Derek. Stilinski is in there, even when he's trying to be sneaky he's not quiet. Something's wrong." Jackson was right, Stiles should be hysterical. His focus snapped to Scott with a glare as he made his way back towards them anxiety seeping off of him. "There's mountain ash blocking his window. I can't get in." Placing what he hoped was a comforting hand on Scott's shoulder Derek managed to make it exactly one step closer to the house before the front door slammed open revealing Stiles aiming a shotgun at his chest.

Derek had never seen the boy look menacing before and it made him stop short at the look in Stiles eyes his father's blood still smudged along his face. Like he was daring Derek to make another move, daring him to give him a reason to shoot. "I suggest you and your pack of mangy fucking mutts get the hell off my property." Derek knew his eyes were flaring red when he heard the choked out whimper from Isaac who despite all his posturing was still the most sensitive member of the pack. "I know you're angry Stiles but you can't speak to your Alpha like that. Now break the line and put that goddamn gun down before you hurt yourself." He was so sure Stiles would just give in, that even in his anger he just needed a push for the damn to break, for his grieving to start. He would have never guessed Stiles aim would just lower slightly instead managing to squeeze the trigger with a practiced grace before Derek could make a move to avoid getting hit.

The pain hit Derek first as he fell back against the slightly damp grass grasping at his thigh in disbelief. The smell hit him second and he let loose a enraged howl at the familiar scent of wolfsbane. "You don't get to tell me what to do anymore Derek. You're not my Alpha." There were quiet gasps all around, because there were no blips, no stutters, just the steady beat of the truth. "None of you trusted me enough to tell me what was going on. I didn't matter because you didn't need my help. Your incompetence cost me EVERYTHING! He was the only family I had left and he's gone now."

"Stiles please, we didn't think it was important. We didn't want to worry you over nothing." With a snort of indignation Stiles turned his attention to Scott, but there was no affection in his gaze only a cold recognition. "Oh please. Spare me your half assed excuses Scott. We all know I was always the odd man out. You all look down your noses at me, and for what? Being human. At least I'm not a fucking affront to nature." Scott visibly flinched at that, from the beginning Stiles had always insisted regardless of the circumstance that the bite was a gift not something to be resented but embraced.

Staring down at Derek with such hatred and disgust that it made Derek's heart clench with regret Stiles pulled a shell from his pocket tossing it at the older man. "This is the last time I help you." Surprising everybody Jackson rushed up the porch steps stopping only when the ash line refused to let him go any further. Ignoring the shotgun pointed unwaveringly at his chest Jackson as he let out a high pleading whine. "Don't do this Stiles. Please I'll do whatever you want. You want the wolf who did this? I'll help you! I'll make them suffer. I know how to make it hurt, being the kanima taught me that much."

Derek knew Jackson had a soft spot for Stiles especially after he learned how he had tried to keep him from hurting people as a his lizard counterpart. More so when he heard how Stiles was the only reason Lydia made it in time to save him. After Jackson was just a werewolf and no longer the kanima the only person who didn't shy away from him was Stiles. Jackson was still an asshole, but everybody was so used to it by now that they rarely took offense to anything that came out of his mouth. Everybody was shocked at the sincerity of his words, and Derek could see a sort of softening in Stiles eyes at the plea. "Jackson we both know you wouldn't leave your pack, Lydia. That you won't disobey your Alpha. And as much as you deny it I know how much you never want to hurt anyone, not if you can help it." A sob escaped the blue eyed wolf as he dropped to his knees looking up at Stiles, "I would. I would do it if you asked me to. If it was what you needed."

**Ok peoples vote it out. Do you want Stiles to say yes or no to Jackson's help.**


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